Walls
by Got Buttermilk
Summary: Starscream spent a lifetime building up walls. Each time they'd crumble and collapse around him he'd rebuild them, praying they'd be strong enough to last this time. This is his story, as remembered by himself.


"**I keep a Close Watch on this Heart of Mine . . ." – Agnes Obel, 'Close Watch'**

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>Walls

**Summary: **Starscream spent a lifetime building up walls around him. Each time they'd crumble and collapse around him he'd try rebuilding them, praying they were strong enough to last this time . . . This is his story, as remembered by himself.

'**Verse: **G1-inspired AU

**Characters/Pairings: **Starscream/Optimus, Megatron, Skyfire, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Ratchet, nameless OCs, ensemble

**Warnings: **Slash with a capital 'S', OOC-ness, Emotional triggers galore (angst, gore, violence, insanity, non-con intimacies, death, & war), & unbetaed.

**Wordcount: **11,900

**A/N: **This spurred out of nothing. Or maybe it did and I just didn't see it coming; I'll probably never know. A rapid bunny bit me during the writing of a simple fic and the plot exploded and expanded like crazy as my subconscious took a mad dive into psychoanalysis and my own interpretation of Starscream's insanity . . . Please read the bottom notes at the end. Thank you for reading :)

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OoOoO

'The balance of the Universe is a matter of balance between infinite logic and madness'.

That was the only full sentence Starscream remembered his caretaker reading from one of the many story-pads to him and the other sparklings in the basement of the orphanage during the bombings of Vos.

Starscream also remembered thinking to himself that there was absolutely no logic or madness to the war. All there was were anguished screams, poisonous, smothering debris, and the booming, resonating shudder of bombs. No logic, no madness; it was sparkless, determined evil raging outside the imagined safety of the walls, confining him to a dark, moist misery he didn't even bother call 'home'. You see, he wasn't _born_ a masochist.

The caretaker would sing lullabies to Starscream and the others when it was time to recharge, her voice shaking with fright as yet another explosion rattled the building, making the room snow with pearly-white dust.

Starscream would often wonder if he would stay there until he was of age, or if he would run away before then. Neither options had merit. But those were the only options he ever had.

OoOoO

Starscream shared his first kiss the night before he fled a chaotic, ruined Vos for a better future.

The younger mech, a fellow Seeker whispered in his audio to _never forget him_ as they held each other close. Millennia later Starscream would still remember him, the crippled Seeker found abandoned in a brothel, missing an arm. He couldn't recall the mech's name, strangely enough. He recalled all other details, such as the sparkling's colour-scheme, dark-blue and yellow, his habit of swirling his small energon-ration before drinking it in small sips, smacking his lips afterwards. Not his designation, though. It would always sadden him to think about.

Starscream entered maturity-status in Iacon, staring into the radioactive, shimmering skies as the time came upon him.

He had felt the change within his body as he became of age, felt his spark swell and pulse in knowledge. He felt how his armour ached and itched. Starscream sold the old gem-amulet from his anonymous Sire and Carrier for credit to purchase his maturity-upgrades the following day.

He remembered feeling the first true surges of excitement fluttering in his spark as he strolled down a main street of Iacon, flaunting his new, shiningly brilliant red plates. He felt admiring optics on his body, _everywhere_; his wings, his shapely legs, his intelligent, sculpted face. He had smiled then.

His first taste of high-grade resulted in a blurred, static-lazed memory of the soiled, grey ceiling of a rented room. His optics locked on this unspectacular surface, too frozen with fear to acknowledge the huge bulk of the nameless 'bot on top of him. However, he clearly remembered the sense of loss, of disappointment, the overwhelming regret the morning after.

Starscream didn't touch bars, high-grade, nor intimate engagements for a long time after that experience. He would smile when he recalled the dedication he had put into applying for the Iacon Science Academy instead. The countless hours he'd spent in the library, researching Solar systems, far-away galaxies, the complex personality of stars, and the paradoxes of wormholes and time-travel.

Starscream remembered whispering _'infinite logic and madness'_ to himself, during the entrance-exam as he encountered a significantly difficult question. He'd passed at 96,8 percent. He remembered the bizarre mix of feeling proud and being very humbled at the same time.

He also clearly remembered his first day at the Academy. The large desk, just for him, made from expensive materials, set in an even larger auditorium. The walls around him whispering of ancient wisdom and all the famous scientists that had passed through these rooms millennia before he had drawn his first cycle. He remembered the sound of the lecturer's smooth vocals, the admiration and gratitude he'd felt from being in his presence, and afterwards the first lunch-period he'd spent alone, optics glued to a data-pad.

He recalled the first friend he'd made. The Shuttle who quite literally stumbled his way into his life during recess. The clumsy, small apology the giant had mumbled, almost belying his enormous size; the following exchange of names.

Skyfire and Starscream became roommates, partners in various school-related projects, and undeniably inseparable.

OoOoO

Starscream always felt a painful clench in his spark when he thought of his final days before graduation.

The loss of Skyfire during their exploration of pre-historic Earth robbed him of nearly a century's worth of sleep. The samples they'd collected, the test they would have run on them . . . It would have been their final project, the presentation for their final exam, and both of them had envisioned it to be a roaring success.

When he'd returned to Cybertron, alone, and shakily briefed the professors and enforcers of the dreadful incident, after he'd attended Skyfire's formal funeral-ceremony, he'd entered an almost catatonic state of existing, staring into the white walls of his and his deceased friend's room for days straight. Nobody talked to him.

When he dropped out of the Academy a few days before the final exam nobody tried to stop him, nobody said good-bye. Not that he'd been in any fair state to recognize a friendly gesture at the time, but when he'd looked back on it, centuries later, he'd felt very angry. Hurt. He had afterwards come to realize how very few genuinely cared for him.

Starscream remembered taking up high-grade again at some point. He would let lonely mechs buy him expensive cubes, which he'd quickly down as they nervously, yet greedily felt him up. He'd never swat their wandering hands off his body. He needed the distraction, no matter how vile a taste it left in his mouth and system.

When he later encountered a soft-spoken, polite mech in a bar one night, whom introduced himself as Megatron, he didn't hear the warning-bells in his head from the deafening, drunk buzzing in his core.

Megatron had been attentive and curious. He had also quickly recognized Starscream's frame-type. He knew a lot about Seekers, their customs, their design, their love for the skies. He was also correct when he hazarded a guess about Starscream coming from Vos. Starscream easily and clearly remembered the sound of laughter from the tall, silver mech after he'd cursed the _'rusted Autobots'_ for nearly destroying the city all those decades ago. He remembered the odd sense of childish delight of apparently being on the gentle-mech's good side, even if they barely knew each other.

When Megatron offered Starscream healthy, glistening energon to drink and a clean room for the night, no interfacing involved, the Seeker recalled wondering how nice it would be to have had Megatron as a care-taker when he was a sparkling, how much he'd wished he was the kind, noble-looking mech's long lost creation.

Megatron had wished him '_good recharge' _and told him that if Starscream stayed with him he'd always be safe and cherished. Starscream had rested calmly, a small, trusting smile on his face.

Time passed.

Starscream was working as a scientist in Megatron's private lab when the war and the hostility suddenly ignited again. He remembered keening in fear as the secluded room shook around him, the test tubes and chemicals failing to the ground around him, breaking into a million pieces. He'd imagined the walls collapsing on him, trapping him, killing him.

Megatron had come to him, taken him away from the centre of Iacon. The silver mech's face had been completely closed off and without explaining or saying a word he transported him back to Vos.

Starscream had been at a loss as to what they were doing in the still crumbled city. He'd been dragged into an underground base hidden in ruins, overflowing with mechs of all origins, and _Seekers!_, so many Seekers.

Megatron made him share a small room with two of his own kin. A quiet, stoic one and a bubbly, mischievous one. Megatron explained that he wanted them to get to know each other. They could have great use of a close friendship in the future.

Thundercracker had been polite and reasonable, introduced himself with all the finesse of the noble his line of heritage made him to be. Skywarp had just flopped himself onto the berth next to Starscream, clapped him on the back. _Welcome to the Decepticons, _he'd told him, _I think ole Megs has big plans for you!_

OoOoO

Starscream's first years in Megatron's army passed in a blur.

Between Skywarp's constant pranks and Thundercracker's long preaching about good behaviour it sometimes felt like being back at the Academy. He certainly remembered enduring a lot of education. However, this education involved operating newly developed firearms and psychological classes in mental strength and endurance. Pain resistance.

He rarely saw Megatron. He recalled missing him, hoping that if he did well then he'd surely return soon and praise him for his good efforts.

When Megatron finally one day returned to base, limping on one leg, cursing under his breath, something changed. Starscream had been ready to run out to greet him by the entrance hall, but as he noticed the amount of strangely shaped objects behind one of the transformed mech's vehicle-mode, he stopped. So did time for a moment, it seemed.

He'd never seen a mech dead from battle before. Nor had he seen fifty mechs dead from battle. And the amounts kept increasing as more and more were brought inside. All these mechs, limbs sticking out in unnatural, alien angles, optics empty and dimmed. Sparks extinguished.

Starscream saw Skyfire, abandoned and cold in the ice of a foreign galaxy, a meaningless loss to Cybertron. He saw the soldiers, countless numbers, flooding the floor with their life-energon. A few medical 'bots ran towards them, scanned the motionless soldiers quickly before they started tearing some still intact limbs off of the corpses.

That day Starscream had learned from a morose Thundercracker that the Decepticons were short on spare parts. He also remembered realizing that the blast-holes in the dead mechs' armour were identical to the holes he put in the target-planks during shooting class.

He remember hiding away in his and the two others' room, locking the door from the inside, whispering words of denial. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't put in this world to sully and destroy it.

Starscream remembered skipping classes from that day forward, recalled lying about having caught various viruses and virally caused sensor-damages. He started having vivid, mad visions in his recharge. The worst ones involving small, enclosed rooms without exits, or floors that gave out under his feet, crumbling away from beneath, too fast for him to fly away.

He remembered being scolded and threatened by his educators. They were particularly fond of cornering him in public, scolding him, calling him a traitor to their faction and their cause. _Coward! Autobot! Useless!_

Starscream had all the time living there been told that the Decepticon strived to obtain freedom and equal rights for all castes and kin, high or low. They'd even taught so in classes. He had constantly been wondering why then he wasn't allowed to just fly away.

As time had flown by so had Starscream's paranoia and anxiety grown. He never knew when or where another 'Con would come at him, corner him, touch him, press a weapon to his spark-chamber. His rest was never restful, his spark always frightened and alarmed. His anxiety was uncontrollable, even when his Trine-mates kept guard during his recharge-periods.

He remembered how he no longer looked forward to Megatron's occasional visits.

One night when Megatron came to his room, immediately making a nervous Thundercracker and Skywarp leave, Starscream had wailed in obvious despair. Megatron was armed and dangerous, while he had no weapon and was completely defenseless. He'd turned on his side, faced the soiled greyness of the wall, not wanting to face mech that promised him safety, and had then betrayed him, had changed him so.

Megatron had spoken first. He had called him a coward.

Starscream had howled that he _hated him_. Hated him. Hated him. Hated him.

He had meant it, Starscream recalled centuries later. Even back then he'd started hating the silver noble with every nanite, every sensor, every inch of his being.

Megatron had taken a seat on the other berth, had growled in distaste. He told Starscream to face him if he wanted to live and see another day. He'd then told him to stop being a sparkling; told him to face his own reality: war.

Starscream remembered how Megatron had told him to learn to control his anger and his fear, transform it into becoming the perfect soldier. He needed to learn how to be the one in power; in power over his own mind and spark. Starscream had been told to forget all he knew about madness and logic. Instead he should focus on the weapon in his hands, the rush of energon in his living veins, and the goal of staying alive. If he wanted to outlive the war then he would had to stop the chaos in his spark before it weakened him, left him completely defenseless. Killed him. He'd have to learn indifference.

He had to learn control.

Starscream remembered imagining himself killing Megatron in that moment. Imagining the cruel, silver mech distorted and cold by his feet, unable to kill, to preach, to spread lies and false hope. He imagined himself in that moment: A greying corpse one the ground before him, his fingers covered in pink liquid from the monster's wounds. In his mind he had seen Thundercracker and Skywarp's faces, amongst a crowd of other Decepticons watching, witnessing him putting an end to the nightmare. Putting an end to all the death.

He had imagined his spark calming, relaxing from its constant, painful clench. He had imagined himself regaining his sanity.

The mech whose hand had held the strings impelling his every move in life and had befuddled his mind would be forever gone.

Starscream remembered thinking that if ever was to restore some sense and order in the universe, if he ever was to be happy, then he'd have to rise in rank, become closer to his puppet master. And put an end to his existence.

He had also realized that he'd have to kill if he was to ever get that far. Kill others than Megatron. The thought had terrified him, but he'd understood the importance of achieving his goal. He recalled wondering how and when he'd get to take his first innocent life, add it to his already guilty conscience. But he had trusted their 'glorious' leader not to wait long before giving him an opportunity to prove his worth. Starscream was right.

Starscream still clearly remembered the day when he'd let go of his sense of morality, of fairness, of right and wrong. The destruction of Praxus. The neutral, Crystal City. A beautiful gem on the otherwise smog-infested, ruined planet. He honestly didn't remember what exactly happened after the merciless attack as the city burned to the ground, but he often suspected that he had spent most of the time in his room, numerous cubes of high-grade churning through his systems, another anonymous mech pressing him down as he dizzily and nauseously stared up at the ceiling.

He remembered how ecstatic everybody had been with their success, the parties that had ensued, the praise he'd received from his deviously well-planned attack, just as the Autobots mourned the loss of billions of innocent civilians.

OoOoO

Starscream remembered the first time he saw Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. 'Enemy', he'd told himself repeatedly. An enemy just like everybody else were.

It had been a few weeks before the launch of the _Ark_ and the _Nemesis_, the disastrous chase that had resulted in both factions in stasis-lock on Earth. Skywarp had once more flopped himself into a seat next to his new Air Commander, pinched the red Seeker inappropriately in the aft, told him to check something out.

Starscream recalled being anxious when he was told that the purple Seeker had a surveillance-capture of the legendary Prime, courtesy of Soundwave. There were rumours and stories among the Decepticons, telling of how large and strong this 'patrician, soft-sparked killer-mech' was. Starscream had never seen him then and he remembered how he believed him to be an exact copy of Megatron, intimidating and lethal. A Creature of Death.

He recalled thinking back then, as the video began rolling, that he hadn't been that far off . . . Only, it didn't feel like it did with Megatron; _he _didn't feel like Megatron at all.

The Prime was large, even taller than Megatron, his long, thick limbs speaking of ungodly strength and endurance. But his optics were different. And not only because of their colour.

Starscream remembered thinking _why? _Why was this Autobot so sad? Those kind, blue optics seemed to translate that he carried the weight of all the loneliness and pain in the Universe on his shoulders. Starscream also remembered how his dull, cold spark had pulsed in acknowledge and longing at the sight. He'd been frightened by his physical response.

After the crash on Earth and waking from their long stasis-lock Starscream had as much as possible barricaded himself from the others. Trine-mates, Leader, everybody. He remembered how terrible it had been to remember Earth, see its coordinates on the small screen of the space ship. And to return to it . . . It had nearly destroyed him.

Starscream would long into the future be thankful for Megatron's constant lust for battle, for their seemingly never-ending run-ins with the Autobot army. The beautiful blue skies, the exotic jungles, the North Pole, the bottom of the Oceans. There didn't seem to exist a place where they wouldn't fight their war.

And it had distracted Starscream perfectly from performing any actions of self-destruction, from damaging himself any further. He got plenty of that from a frustrated, spiteful Megatron anyway.

Starscream remembered the first time he had Prime at a gun-point. Surprisingly, it hadn't even been during a battle between the armies. He'd just taken a severe beating the night before and during punishment-patrol he'd spotted the Semi-transformer near a canyon. Shrieking in warning and firing at the ground near the surprised Autobot he had tried to chase him off. He remembered feeling a need to avoid taking more lives than absolutely necessary. _That_ life hadn't seemed right to take.

The Prime had transformed into robot-mode, had held up his hands in a universal gesture of peace. Starscream had landed several feet away, feeling wary. And the Prime had just stared at him with his blue, sad, _Primus-help-him _beautiful optics.

Something inside Starscream had snapped then, and he'd started throwing vicious insults and demeaning remarks around, leered openly at the larger mech's broad shoulders and strong-looking abdominal platings despite his hateful words.

Prime had just stared.

Starscream had warned the Semi never to wander off on his own again, had told him how unwise it was, but since he was feeling generous that day he was free to go. Preferably 'run home like a coward' that was.

Prime never wavered.

Starscream remembered with sharp precision how his spark had surged with unexplainable emotions when he'd been asked _how old are you, Starscream? _He'd gasped out-loud at the sensation from his core, nearly dropping his weapon. The Autobot must have experienced something similar because he reached his hands out towards him, took several steps closer.

Starscream remembered keening in fright by the unarmed Semi, the reaction he'd provoked in his spark. He'd shot Prime in the shoulder, a none-lethal shot, and taken off hurriedly, turbines whining and the wind roaring in his audio.

He remembered not daring to look back. He also remembered how his spark had just kept on pulsing hotly within him.

He'd ventured into unknown territory that night: Self-pleasure. His body had quivered under his uncertain fingers, this new alien, tactile stimuli causing him to pant nervously into the loneliness of his dark room. His optics had off-lined with undeniable, inexplicable pleasure, no longer staring into the dark spots of his green, dusted walls and ceiling.

His Enemy's name on his lips, he'd endured his spark pulsing insanely strong, calling for its imagined, none-present mate. He remembered not dreaming at all that night.

From that day and that night on it would always trigger strong reactions from Starscream whenever he'd encounter the Prime in battle. In some cases he'd want to put a shot directly through his spark-chamber, gloat at his dulling, massive form. In other cases, _most cases_, he'd want to saunter by him, throw him some smart remark, sway his hips. The Prime mostly just seemed determined not to harm him in any way. He refused to point a gun at him, optics saddening further whenever they'd fall on him.

Starscream had begun wondering if anybody else had noticed. You see, Starscream wasn't so naïve any longer. He began to understand why his spark pulsed so madly when in the other's presence.

Starscream remembered thinking that he must have gone completely mad. Mad for falling so hard for a mech he didn't even know beyond what he'd based him on in his silly night-time fantasies.

The only logical explanation for falling in love with Optimus Prime was that he'd finally gone absolutely, beautifully mad.

OoOoO

Starscream remembered when Skywarp discovered a giant Shuttle in the ice of the Earth.

Megatron had been very pleased with their find, immediately laying out plans to put the strong-looking giant to use for the Decepticons. Thundercracker and Skywarp had both stepped forward immediately to offer him battle training and weapons. Neither of them had been able to conceal their excitement of having the impressive-looking aerial-'bot in their ranks, their hands sliding over his plating like were they giddy younglings.

Starscream had hid from Skyfire. Unable to meet the desperate search of his friend's confused, panicked optics. The fear that would doubtlessly soon evolve into a look of pure betrayal. He offered no explanation to anyone. The Decepticons would doubtlessly mock him for ever having had any friendly feelings towards another living organism, and Skyfire . . . _Skyfire_ wouldn't understand! He had missed out on _millennia's_ worth of time and changes. Changes within Starscream as well as in the society.

He recalled lying awake, the sound of Skyfire's pained cries echoing in his audio. The very first battle Skyfire had participated in had led to many 'Con casualties, a victorious Autobot-army, a smoking Shuttle-corpus in a scorching crater . . .

Skyfire hadn't off-lined from his damages. He'd stayed awake, crying for Starscream, wailing in despair. Starscream remembered how Megatron had asked him why he didn't go to the medbay to comfort his apparently obsessed _friend_, a scornful glint in his optics. He'd been disgusted by their immediate failure. Starscream remembered denying his acquaintance with the giant, spitting an insult at the noble's feet. Receiving a slap for his behaviour.

He remembered how he'd secretly felt petrified for what the Shuttle might say to him if they were alone together, what he might accuse him of. It petrified him because somewhere deep inside he'd know Skyfire would be telling the truth. Skyfire never lied, you see.

The day Skyfire decided to disappear and defect Starscream had been out on patrol. He remembered his shock when his radar transmitted an Autobot signal somewhere in a nearby canyon.

Suspicion and paranoia dominating over his always suppressed sense of prudence had him following the calling beacon of Autobot-presence, not caring to call for assistance or reporting his discovery. His creeping suspicions validated as Optimus Prime rolled by underneath him, a few of his most trusted soldiers flanking him.

He'd hid in the mountain-side, watched as his oldest and dearest friend was surrounded, questioned for his reasons for contacting them, for wanting to join the Autobots, ordered to stand still as he was scanned and checked for weapons and transmitters. And suicide-bombs.

Starscream remembered how he'd then stared with awe as Optimus stepped forward, taking the subdued, frightened Shuttle's hand in his, _accepted _him. Then how the sheer relief radiated off Skyfire's frame, his shoulders sagging, his optics filling with hope.

Starscream recalled shaking with fury, envy. And shame.

Shame as he'd realized how he'd been the 'Megatron' to Skyfire, as the real Megatron had been to him: constantly letting him down by promising a glorious, safe future, only to betray all hope and goodness, stealing away all dreams of freedom. And Envy as he'd seen Skyfire escape it where he himself had failed to do so.

Starscream remembered how he'd stayed out of sight as the Autobot medic had chastened his former friend for not energizing regularly, some of the other mechs laughing pleasantly, playfully pushing him along as they meant to leave the rocky _'Con-infiltrated' _area. He remembered how his spark had been in tumult, clenching with _too-many-emotions_, more than he'd experienced in centuries.

He didn't report it, didn't sound the alarm. He didn't attack, neither.

His core burned hotly as Optimus remained, his sad optics overseeing as his mechs led their new comrade away, out into the dessert towards the safety of their base. Prime then put a hand to his chest, regarded the canyon-walls, searched. Starscream equally pressed a shaky hand to his chest, felt as his life-force blazed intently, calling for- . . .

Starscream had taken off then, turbines screeching as he escaped into the sky, pretending he didn't notice or hear the Autobot Leader's call.

Starscream remembered Megatron's bellow of outrage as he told him of Skyfire's escape, his joining with the Autobots. He also recalled being beaten within an inch of his life for his failure to stop him.

The next thing he remembered was Thundercracker trying to help him drink some low-grade energon without it flowing and dripping too much from his loosened, dented jaw. All the while Starscream could only think about Skyfire, surrounded by cheerful, friendly Autobots. Optimus' hand as it shook Skyfire's.

Starscream had wondered as he had laid there on the floor, hurting and disorientated, if his infatuation with the Prime would ever go away. He also remembered admitting, in a very private part of his mind, that he wouldn't really mind that much if he were to spend the rest of his miserable life loving a fantasy. An impossibility.

Because compared to the otherwise never-ending anxiety, grief, hate, fear, shame, disgust, cold, efficient logic and madness dominating his spark, a little pleasant, if weak fluttering didn't feel too bad.

OoOoO

Between fierce battles, that never seemed to solve anything nor take neither of the two factions any closer to a final end of the Great War, and Megatron's punishment assaults and colourful insults, Starscream had started to spend more time outside the _Nemesis_.

His inner, long subdued scientist bloomed during some of his outings, and he'd always feel oddly content when he returned to base, fingers and knees soiled with dirt and organic material. He'd always ignore some of Skywarp's more creative, cheeky remarks about his appearance. Thundercracker would just stare bemusedly at the small samples of plants and sand he'd show them.

He remembered a strong source of amusement, a sensation he'd imagined long-lost to him, as both his fellow Seekers - alright, _friends!_ - Shrieked and huffed in distaste as they investigated a small, leafy bush of his and accidently squished a few of its ripe berries, covering their fingers in sticky juices.

The periods of time between their clashes with the Autobots lengthened, and the breaks were mostly spent on pranks, punishment, parties, and nights spent in others' chambers. Not for Starscream, though. He had stuck to himself and his nature-excursions. He'd sit alone and try to memorize the Autobots' names, just to pass the time. But all the names and faces blurred away as months flew by.

But one certain mech insistently kept showing up, despite the unofficial truce.

He had found it odd that whenever he went out on patrol he'd pick up the now all too familiar signal of the bane of his existence. The undeniably _delicious _bane of his existence. He'd inform Soundwave over a comm. that everything was clear while his spark would pulse ecstatically in it's casing as he chased the mark on his radar like the beacon it had become to him.

Optimus seemed keen to take lone drives in the rocky dessert, along the canyons, dangerously close to enemy territory. But he'd always stop somewhere for a long time, wander around a little in bi-pedal mode, but not for spying-purposes or searches for the 'Con base. Whenever Starscream had detected his signal on his radar he'd speed off to locate him and he'd always find the handsome Autobot stand there, all solitary and sad-optic'd, apparently waiting for something, _someone._

Starscream remembered how he'd watch from a safe distance, always. Absently he'd stroke his chest-plates and calm his longing spark as he noticed the Prime doing the same, hoping and fantasying that those Autobot blues were truly looking for his frame roaring across the clear, azure sky above.

Whenever Optimus seemed to snap out of his daze and meant to drive home, Starscream would almost wish to go with him.

But he wasn't an Autobot. While there might once have been basis for Autobot principles and programming in his processor, a long time ago, Megatron had thoroughly cleansed him of any capacity for such ideals. It wouldn't work for either of them. He'd fail them as a noble, selfless Autobot, and Prime would be disappointed. Without a doubt.

You see, Starscream had already considered it countless times by then.

He remembered sitting by a secluded riverside, watching the water slosh over the glistening rocks as odd, silver-organics swam by, glistening like crystals.

He'd fantasised about surrendering to Prime and his soldiers, had used all his logical programming for creating a realistic outcome of such an action. It had been quite the mixed outcome. He remembered how he'd imagined the Prime's three Praxians and how they would just look at him, stare incomprehensibly at the murderer, the monster whom had taken almost their entire race out of existence. And whom now sought salvation from them. He'd not imagined the others' reactions to be much more positive.

But if he also used a little of his imagination, some wistful, mad thinking he'd see himself welcomed enthusiastically by a pair of warm, strong arms. A deep baritone he'd only truly heard in battle welcoming him, telling him that he'd waited _forever _for Starscream to show up . . .

He'd eventually shake his head free from his daydreaming, stand up, stare up into the indigo sky, watch as the sunset coloured the orange canyon-walls in darker, more mysterious tones. This was his sanctuary.

_His alone_, he'd tell himself as he pressed his hands against the still warm surface of the rocks. 'His' for fantasies and shelter. 'His' for when he wasn't Air Commander Starscream, fearless warrior.

He never told anyone of that place.

Starscream also remembered having the little oasis for himself for almost a decade before it was discovered. It happened shortly after a particularly violent brawl with the Autobots, explosions and lasers making the asphalt under them melt and steam. Megatron had screamed and pulled at him as they'd made their cowardly escape; denying him his daily ration, sent him off on safety-patrol.

Hungry and aching he'd taken off into the warm, crisp winds of the canyons, his optics burning with a strong surge of hopelessness. The war had never felt more pointless, and he'd never felt more lost. That and he'd seen Optimus take quite the beating from his silver Leader.

He remembered being shaken out of his train of thoughts as his radar had picked up a signal. The warning beep had the disoriented Seeker take off before even checking to see if signature truly belonged to the mech he somehow already _knew _it was. Subconsciously. Starscream recalled the way his spark has clenched at he became aware of the landsite the Autobot was located at. The intimate familiarity of it the warm rocks, the soft, distant sound of oozing water.

And as he had rounded a corner . . .

Optimus was standing in the small river of the oasis, sad optics searching again, the soft light of the sun shining through the narrow cliff-opening high above veiling his majesties and battle-scars in light and the dusty matter that floated in it. He looked mesmerizing.

Starscream had been nailed to his spot, watching as the Prime walked through the shallow river-deep towards the rock-side, glowing in the afternoon sun, and flattened his big, blue palm against the solid surface, tracing it gently.

Too much.

It had been _too much_, seeing Optimus' hands touch the warm stonewall, too intimate for reasons Starscream couldn't process in his already overheated, energy- and sensation-starved processor. All he could think was _this is mine _and _this is sacred, you may not!_ He had felt invaded, mind and body, infuriated all of a sudden. _Why _did this mech have such an influence on his spark, _why _was all he had to do to touch the canyon, the inanimate walls of his hideout and Starscream's systems would rev in response? In fierce longing?

He remembered raising his gun, striding forward, no seduction or teasing in his walk, only fury and desperation. He'd shouted a word of warning, then orders to _step back! Don't touch that! _

Optimus had abruptly snapped his head up, stared with widened optics as the Seeker stalked closer, deadly and mad-looking. The semi took a step back, raised his hands again in that non-threatening gesture. Silent.

Starscream stopped when he was a few steps from the huge Autobot, suddenly aware of the tingling of the Prime's energy-field against his own. His spark had started heating in a vigorous fever.

He recalled how he had started shaking as he'd demanded of the Prime to surrender to him, to follow him to the Decepticon brig. His fingers had shook around his gun.

His spark sent another strong pulse outwards. Starscream nearly keened as he felt the answering pulse brush against his field. Something deep within, something buried and long forgotten in his mind started whispering and singing of hope and happiness. Of Balance. Of Union.

Optimus advanced slowly, optics suddenly shining with belief, great affection, and a spark-deep recognition. He had retracted his facemask, much to Starscream's shock. The handsome, yet scarred face that had always lied beyond the protective plate of the Prime's face spoke of age, great trials, and solitude.

_I've been looking for you, _the semi had said, _Primus, you're so beautiful, Starscream. I've been looking everywhere for you, for so long._

Starscream remembered uttering a sob of confusion, longing, fear, desire, disbelief, hope, doubt, joy, and so many other sensations. His spark fluttered like a wild, sentient creature in his chest, trapped in a cage within, fighting for its freedom.

His fingers had loosened their grip on his firearm.

When Prime advanced again, optics ablaze with emotions, _too _many emotions for any sadness to shine through, Starscream's fingers turned numb, almost like the hand was no longer his, and he couldn't hold on to his weapon any longer. It fell to the dusty ground beneath them with an audible _'thud'_. . . _Who was he, anyway? Did he even know himself at all?_

Starscream had protested weakly, the longing in his optics and the boiling temperature of his core belying the words he spoke in soft stutters. Optimus reached for him, like so many times before.

He had let himself be captured.

Starscream whimpered shakily into the mouth that pressed against his, unsure and agitated after centuries of avoiding any kind of intimacy, and overwhelmed by the wild rush of _rightness_ in his spark. Optimus kissed his bottom-lip, moaning his pleasure and grabbing onto his cherry-red hips tightly.

Starscream reminisced about that first kiss, the feeling of his back and wings scraping against the canyon-wall, the way his legs had quivered in submission to the powerhouse of a mech pressing into him. He'd had no control over the situation, absolutely no control over his body and mind he had come to see as Optimus eased off a little, pressing a more gentle kiss to his pliant, gunmetal lips.

He'd been completely at the Semi's mercy, back against the solid rock, the huge bulk of the Autobot Commander pressing into him, trapping him; _and he didn't mind!_

In fact, Starscream clearly recalled hissing for more, pleaded for _something _unfathomable he'd never had, never quite experienced even though the Prime wasn't his first at all. And Optimus complied eagerly, humming and whispering into his neck as his dark-blue fingers drew sounds from the Seeker he didn't even realize he was capable of vocalising.

Fingers had clawed at the Autobot's shoulders as they grinded against each other, glossa twining hotly, sparks singing for each other, their different frequencies mingling, creating music in arioso, in _feroce._

And then it had been over.

Small sinus-waves of pleasure continued to roll through their joined bodies, their energy-fields gliding against each other affectionately, like sentient felines. Their different-coloured optics had been locked for the longest time. Starscream shivered as Optimus gently released his weak thighs from the death-grip he'd had them in. He remembered nodding as Optimus asked if he could stand.

He'd leaned into Optimus' warm hand as it traced his facial features, continued exploring. They kissed again.

Starscream would always smile a little wryly to himself when he recalled how he'd been halfway onto the Prime's lap again, panting and fumbling, as his comm. had suddenly sounded loudly. Skywarp and Thundercracker's worried voices came through loud and clear. Both were anxious to _where he was_ and _if his systems were still running when he hadn't had his ration?_ He'd shakily snapped at them not to doubt their undefeatable Trine Leader, the legendary Sky Commander, and to go get some recharge ASAP. He'd been surprised and shy when the Autobot afterwards offered him a cube he'd kept in subspace all the time. He hadn't declined, though.

They shared it after some more kissing.

Starscream remembered telling the Prime after a long silence how he could never be an Autobot. Remembered the Prime's faltering smile as it became obvious that he'd clearly hoped so. He'd hugged his love tightly, hidden his face in his shoulder, and whispered that it just wasn't in him any longer, goodness. He'd fail Prime.

Optimus made him face him, told him that he could never fail Prime, that perfection was only a fantasy. He'd been sincere. Had kissed him, caressed his arms and scarred back, begged him to join him. Not the Autobots, just _him_. The big, blue optics had looked so sad and hopeful all at once. Optimus had whispered that they were meant for each other, and that fact alone made a world of a difference. They could make it!

Starscream remembered hoping it would be possible. He'd nodded silently, his body docile as the Autobot pulled him close again, relief and love emitting from his warm chassis.

Starscream remembered thinking that even if that moment by the river would be his last happy moment, embraced with such care and love, their passion shielded by walls of mountains, before facing an army of friends, lovers, and brothers to the life-energon he'd spilled with his hands . . . It'd still be worth all the misery and chaos of the Universe.

Later that night he left a small note by his sleeping Trine-mates' berths as he kissed their helmets, packed his few belongings, and performed a daring escape into the darkness.

OoOoO

Starscream remembered yelling, shrieking, and throwing objects at the cursing, ducking Autobot medic. He remembered hissing at a shocked Optimus that he'd only agreed on joining Prime, _not the Autobot cause. _The white and red Ambulance had no right to poke and prod at his body.

He remembered how his spark had dropped and clenched as Optimus pinched the brink of his nose, his expression weary. All the Autobot Officers had looked mistrustful.

He was taken to Optimus' private quarters (despite much spluttering objection from the panicking mech in charge of security) where he positioned himself prettily on the Prime's broad desk, fingers busy with a tool against his dented hip. He had smiled wryly as the Prime stayed for a while, appearing a little uncertain to initiate anything. They both suspected many of the officers to be waiting just outside their now shared quarters.

Starscream got to his feet, kissed his lover soundly before he'd begun pushing him towards the exit. If Optimus stayed he couldn't be present at the meeting held in honour of the newest addition to the _Ark-_family and defend Starscream's right to stay with the Autobots. And _wouldn't that be problematic? _

He remembered with a strong surge of delight how Optimus had promised to take him out on an actual _date_ before engaging in anymore _enervating activities_. Starscream also remembered snickering as he suggested how all the _Ark's _other residents might want to act the role of Chaperons if they went public with such intentions. Optimus had snorted in response, though he didn't deny it.

When the Autobot Commander opened the door, revealing at least a dozen of his former enemies trying to catch a peak of the newcomer, their faces set in dumbfounded expressions or angry, suspicious frowns, Starscream turned around and escaped into the berth-chamber. He flopped himself down on the broad, foamed mattress, stared scrutinizingly up at the horribly orange ceiling.

He remembered making a face in distaste, imagining how his own colour-scheme would surely clash with his surroundings. In all honesty, he knew he was spending his afternoon musing about a possible new paint-job that would go better with his orange residence for one reason and one alone: to distract himself from the anxiety of being separated from his lover. His only ally in this completely foreign place.

When Optimus came back later they shared a cube in silence and went to sleep. Not much talking had been involved besides a few gentle remarks on the sweet taste of the energon. Prime didn't bring up the course of the meeting, but the way he clang to Starscream's waist from the moment their bodies touched the berth said enough. The Officers hadn't been overly supportive.

Starscream vividly remembered the silent hostility of the other Autobots as he on the seventh day ventured out of his safe haven. No one spoke or looked at him. He wasn't sure if he preferred that behaviour to the incomprehensive staring from the day of his arrival.

It wasn't until after Optimus coaxed him into trusting him enough for them to try out a spark-merge that Starscream dared enter the rec. room. The solid, calm echo of his lover's _being _in his spark gave him courage enough to sit at a table, surrounded by staring mechs.

He'd ignored them, of course. He'd concentrated fully on his memory of the date with Optimus, the gentle way they'd held hands from their quarters to the small forest behind the volcano the _Ark _had crashed into, their shared smiles, and the happiness he'd felt, too strong an emotion for him to care about the glitched CSO trailing them. Their tangled bodies in the privacy of their berth-chamber, the whispered request, the gentle reassurance that it was _all right _and _safe_. The nearly violently pleasurable sensation of their sparks touching for the first time . . .

Starscream had apparently been smiling into his lunch-ration because he remembered when Skyfire approached, startled him out of his daydreaming with a brisk remark of _Starscream, how dare you? How dare you sit there with that- . . . t-that repulsive _sneer_ on your f-face?_

He recalled how his entire frame froze, not from a system-failure, but from fear. Fear of finally receiving the yelling, the beating, the _punishment _he'd anxiously anticipated since the discovery of his Academy-time friend in the ice. The Shuttle was trembling, his plating blazing in cold white and blue nuances, only matte where the remaining scarring of the attack against the Autobots long ago stayed.

_Coward! Decepticon! Murderer!_

Starscream didn't really remember to perfect detail how Ratchet entered the picture, joined the one-sided argument, but surprisingly enough did so only to stop the now hysterical Shuttle: _I thought you were my friend! Why didn't you help me? Why did you betray me?_

Starscream nearly had an out-of-body experience when the Prime entered the room, shared a brief nod with the CMO before pulling the shaking form of his red body into his arms, murmured comfortingly into his buzzing, static-lazed audio.

He'd barely heard when Ratchet in a strict tone turned his attention to the others, barked how Optimus and Starscream were physically and mentally intended for each other, _spark-mates_, and how it was scientifically proved that mates destined by Primus himself never betrayed each other and therefore could never possibly harm each other; by directly killing his mate or by killing his mate's family. _The Autobots_ in Optimus' case.

Starscream recalled staring dizzily into Optimus' optics, seeing neither scientific logic nor any Primus-enforced madness. Only love.

He also recalled finally noticing the other bots in the room, suddenly seeing how many of the Autobots had been genuinely frightened by Skyfire's outburst and how they were clearly not as opposed, if still most uncertain of a former Decepticon Air Commander's presence in their domain.

He'd felt Optimus behind him, his hands warm and strong on his hips, his posture giving off a strong vibe of possessiveness. Even if his intentions hadn't originally meant anything sexual, his aggressor stance still proved a deep, unwavering affection and a crystal clear sense of protectiveness. He'd been challenging his army Starscream had realized later. Dared them to order Starscream away, to tell them _no. You can't have each other._

A few of the soldiers shifted awkwardly, again taking an interest in their conversations. A very few nodded at Starscream in acknowledgement, and he even got one tiny smile. Skyfire didn't say anything, only stared sadly at the still-visible purple insignia on his wings before walking away, burying his head in his large, empty hands as he disappeared down the hall-way.

Starscream remembered how he had then known that he'd never be friends with Skyfire again. The wounds were too severe, the cleft between them too great for them to reach across. And re-building any form of bridge would be too difficult, they wouldn't ever be able to cooperate in that sense again.

Starscream was taken back to Optimus' office, was seated on his desk and embraced. Held. Comforted. Kissed.

The echo of Prime's lovemaking pulsed in his core, and the physical Prime traced his tear-streaked face with adoring caresses. With a sob he'd re-opened the doors to his most intimate chamber, begged Optimus to take him, make him feel good. His lover gave in instantly and drowned him in a sweet Ocean of care and promises of Union and Peace. And all was right again. He was loved.

OoOoO

Starscream remembered thinking about when and where Megatron would force an attack upon the Autobots. It had been very quiet for a long time, and he hadn't liked it.

It was very unlike Megatron to behave that way.

Optimus had admitted to him that they'd been contacted a few times, mostly in regards of wanting to offer information or seize-fires in exchange for Starscream's return, whether Starscream came willingly or sedated, bound, or half-dead from force. Optimus also hurriedly added that they'd of course declined before Starscream panicked too much.

Starscream recalled shivering in delight when his lover whispered to him that he had very clear intentions of bonding with Starscream. And soon. And then nothing should come between them again.

The thought of sharing one body-mind with Prime, to create an eternal spark-connection between their separate bodies revved his engine. Had he travelled back in time and asked his past '_him_' if he'd believed himself in his current position in '_his_' future, he had little doubt that the answer would be _no! _As much as it hurt his logic components to think in that way.

'Past-Starscream' hadn't believed much in love. The concept of _pleasant interfacing_ had been alien enough as it was and all ideas of living in a functioning, if a wee bit disliked relationship with a kind, attentive partner and walking freely around amongst 'bots whom didn't physically press any weapons to his head when he expressed his opinions, even when a bit dramatic or aggressive at times, baffled him. But he was never too baffled to press his lips to Optimus' helmet in the morning hours or to smirk triumphantly at Ratchet when he'd roll his eyes during some of their more enthusiastic discussions.

Sometimes it had been difficult enough to remember that there was still a war going on somewhere outside the calm order of Prime's arms and base.

But, you see, Starscream wasn't forgetting himself entirely. Nor did he forget the promise he'd made some millennia ago to himself, the promise of Megatron's energon being spilled by his hands.

And he could never forget that Megatron was still out there. Probably planning something. Something cruel, judging by the long absence. It couldn't be long until- . . .

When Teletran-1 suddenly sounded the alarm it jerked both Optimus and Starscream out of an intense game of chess. The Autobot Commander immediately activated his comm., spoke to his CSO while Starscream sat back in his seat, spark clenching anxiously. He recalled seeing the dark change in Optimus' optics as he was told what they already knew: the long-awaited battle was upon them. But no matter how prepared they'd imagined themselves, nothing ever compares to suddenly be in the actual situation.

The soldiers cursed bitterly but readily got up and abandoned their peaceful activities, the weapons had been cleansed and loaded months ago, and the Strategist Team had their battle-scenarios out and ready. But the fear loomed above them all as equals.

When Optimus got to his pedals and told Starscream to retreat to their quarters the Seeker easily ignored him. Even as they marched down the Hall, Optimus repeatedly turning his head around, nearly ordering him to return and stay in their dorm Starscream kept following, silent.

The warning-signal resounded through the halls of the _Ark _loudly and the following rush of Autobots coming hurriedly towards the Commando Deck was frenzied and coloured in anxious forecasting. The Officers called out brief instructions, displayed a hurried strategy for their counter-attack before the soldiers geared up.

Starscream had watched from a distance as Optimus contacted the 'Con Leader on Teletran's big screen, had made sure to stay out of view. The two powerful mechs had shared a few of their usual unpleasantries before the conversation turned uncharacteristically agressive. Starscream recalled shying away as Megatron began howling threats and revealed their newly developed weapon.

He remembered hiding his face in the wall as he recognised the fusion blaster as one of his own, old designs. Terribly dangerous, deadly. In the hands of _him!_

Optimus swore hastily as Teletran disconnected, yelled a few, encouraging words to his mechs. The scientists had quickly instructed the Officers to _stay outta that gun's way!, _as they obviously sensed its danger.

Just as the Autobots cried their warrior's cry and hurried off, Starscream asked for his null-rays. He supposed later that he shouldn't have been surprised when Optimus grabbed his wrist tightly, not painfully and pulled him away from the Deck. He explained to Prime that he needed to fight, needed to be useful to Prime. He needed to be with him.

Optimus didn't reply. He just squeezed Starscream's wrist in possessive affection and brushed his energy-field against the protesting Seeker's.

Starscream remembered his shock and anger when Optimus rounded a corner and made it to their dorm. Prime pushed him into their quarters, kissed him feverously, then stepped back and _locked _the door from the outside. Starscream was trapped. Trapped inside while his lover, _the-only-one-that-mattered-in-life _faced mortality outside, and he was unable to assist in any way.

He'd shrieked in disbelief and cried out at the unfairness of it all. He'd used all his strength to loudly slam himself against the door and bang his fist on the walls as he tried to claw his way through them.

Optimus' voice had sounded through a private comm. link, sounding as distressed as Starscream felt, telling him that he was _sorry_ and that _the only thing that mattered was their love and his safety. _

Starscream howled, abandoned in an indestructible box of walls, his prospective mate outside, too far away. Too distant for Starscream to protect him like he wanted to, _needed _to.

He remembered snarling in anger before ripping the furniture apart, searching for a possible escape-way. All vents and drains were too narrow, and instinctively he already knew that. But his maddened processor demanded him to continue searching. He found empty energon-cubes, forgotten story-pads, and old, greyed photos as he nearly destroyed the berth-chamber in his wild search.

He also found one of Prime's ancient looking, yet still-functioning guns behind a box of broken knick-knacks. He clutched it to his chest as an outdoor explosion rocked the entire base, the ceiling snowing debris.

The sudden sound of a door opening behind him had Starscream on his feet, Optimus' gun ready in hand. Two familiar-looking Seekers stared back at him, shock and disbelief written across their identical faces. Thundercracker tried to form his name with his vocalisor, but failed. They'd clearly been searching for him, but apparently they had not expected him to be there at all.

_Primus, is it true?, _Thundercracker had choked out, seeming shaken to his very core.

Starscream snapped out his astonished silence, reminded himself that these two morons had often declared themselves to be his friends. He'd probably betrayed them as much as he'd betrayed Skyfire, when one really thought about, abandoning them to themselves. He would accept their accusations, take their beatings, but he wouldn't let them stop him from coming to Optimus' aid. He readied himself, his finger finding the trigger . . .

But they did something he hadn't expected.

_Pit, you really love him, don't you, dumb-aft?, _Skywarp managed to grin a little wryly, bringing a hand up to cover his face. _You're madder than I thought._

They were all quiet, the volcano shaking faintly around them and the base as the battle raged outside. Starscream remembered faintly how he'd nodded. Maybe he also told them of Optimus' promise to bond with him, how his kisses and arms kept him safe during recharge.

Even Thundercracker and Skywarp had never been able to soothe him whenever his visions got too vivid and scary.

_He's outside, _Thundercracker spoke as he sat down by the doorway, dark-blue wings resting against the scratch-marks their former Air Commander had left in the walls. _We won't stop you. But promise us you'll be careful._

_You better make it, both of you, _Skywarp spoke, a hitch in his voice made it difficult to translate his words, - _if he can give you a night's worth of peaceful recharge, you deserve each other . . . Go._

Starscream strode up to them, grasped their shoulders in a friendly, brief squeeze, before leaving behind his former Trine and the ruins of his and Prime's wrecked quarters. Past and present became one, blurred into indifference. All that was of any significance was the future, his and his love's, in peace and alive together. He ran down the halls, following the distant sound of gunfire and explosions. A warrior, again.

oOoOo

As soon as the ceiling above him gave way to the clear, blue skies, so did chaos erupt around him. The dirt under his feet was painted in soot and energon, sickly warm. Loud cries of rage, desperation, and pain resonated all around, and it wasn't until Starscream vented air deeply through his vents that he realized that he was surrounded by both Autobots and 'Cons.

He was in the middle of it all, and yet his mind wouldn't register any of it, wouldn't accept all the pain that literally splattered across his torso and arms, his firearm still offline in his frozen hand.

_This has to stop._

His mind somehow narrowed the world into only consisting of Starscream's wobbling legs, the shaking earth below . . . And Megatron and Optimus facing off a little further up ahead.

The sight of Megatron forcing Optimus into the rocky ground, the fusion blaster hazing blackish steam from where it was attached to his shoulder . . . Prime cried out in pain and _hate, _his armour loosening as he was grinded violently against the sharp rocks.

Starscream saw the sparks fly from his love's frame as small platings was pried off and fell to earth like shattered, tainted glass. The pink pools of energon were sprinkled with blue and red.

Starscream remembered seeing Megatron, the mech whom had given him shelter, only to drain him of every happy sensation, every hope and innocent desire, now pointing the shrieking fusion blaster at Optimus' face. And he remembered seeing Optimus who was frightening at first, confusing, unspeakable, and enemy; only to become the only thing of importance in existence.

He remembered screaming in denial.

He didn't remember what he was in denial about.

He never figured it out. And maybe he'd never really known at all?

Megatron looked up in shock, his battle-lust and premonitions of victory stealing his focus from everything besides his nemesis, now seeing his traitorous former Air Commander standing there, probably thinking Starscream's every spark-beat to be disgusting, sinful abomination. He'd apparently decided to kill him off first, get it over with.

Optimus noticed, too, his optics wild with battle, but also exhausted from so many years of war and grief. The his face turned into one of surprise at seeing Starscream, then love, then fear!

Then he heard Megatron's war cry, realized that his spark-mate had been targeted as the victim of the blaster's scorching, fatal shot. And he'd have none of that.

Starscream watched as Optimus used the last of his strength to pummel his bleeding fist into the gun-transformer's face, sending him toppling backwards and rolling down towards a deep, dark gorge by the volcano-side.

Optimus struggled upright, stumbled towards him, his weapon long forgotten and discarded. His leaking hands were fisted, shaking, and defensive.

Starscream took a second to look at his own gun, considered its range of damage to a mech like the 'Con Leader, sneered in distaste. _Useless. _

_Autobot or Decepticon, or neither of those two, I need something . . . something that will truly hurt._

He knelt in Optimus' energon, regarded the various pieces of plating, both small and large. He ran a loving hand down a sharp-seeming, red piece, clutched it in his hand, winced and hissed as it cut into his sensor and veins. But it was so perfect he almost had to kiss it.

Determined, and surprisingly cool-headed about it, he made his way towards the wrestling Leaders. He recalled wondering if the remaining Autobots and Decepticons were aware of how the war was about to come to an end? That he was about to fulfil his duty? That he was going to keep a promise made an eternity ago, before many of the present scars were inflicted, before Praxus was destroyed, before any of them were too damaged by hate to see any meaning to the Great War?

Megatron's neck-cables glistening in the heated air, shone in the shy light of the sun, beckoned him closer. The silver noble himself was too busy wasting his nasty vocals declaring Optimus, lying beneath, as the loser, defeated, worthle-

Megatron never spoke another word, his red optics surged with shock as Starscream wrapped a sleek arm around his chest, the other arm swung hurried towards his neck, the Prime's armour-piece cutting easily through several vital cords, lines, energon-veins, and more.

Static and sparks burst from Megatron's bleeding mouth, his engine screaming in protest, arms flailing for support. Optimus just stared from the ground, knees and legs quickly colouring from his wounded enemy's fluids. His face was unreadable.

Starscream remembered just holding Megatron close, pressing his weapon deeper, twisting it around. He pressed his lips to his hated mentor's audio, whispered . . .

_You've been the real pest all along. You were the one betraying me, the one who let me down . . ._

Starscream followed fluently as Megatron stumbled towards the gaping gorge, his every intention to watch as Megatron disappeared into the river below. But as the 'Con Leader's steps got more staggering, much less steady, Starscream had to drop the armour-piece in favour of clawing his finger-tips into the silver mech's wrists as hard as he could, hoping to inflict more damage.

Oh, but Starscream remembered how unexplainably difficult it was to let go. All he wanted was to hold on forever, follow him into the dark only to continue hurting him, making him pay repeatedly for all the pain he'd caused. He wanted, _needed _Megatron to hurt, to scream for him to stop! But no words escaped the heavy 'Con as only more and more energon and static continuously spilled from his greying face.

_I need to hear that you're hurting! I need to hear it from you!_

It was insane, Starscream had realized as they tottered closer and closer to the gorging hole behind. But he couldn't let go! It was impossible!

And he was hearing voices, too! He _had _to have lost his mind, he thought as he stabbed his claws deeper into the already fractured lines within. Starscream recalled that he might have actually snickered out loud as his steel-like grip on the greying 'Con only tightened further and further. His feet sensed the edge of the gorge . . .

The voices again. No, there was only one voice talking now, everything else had gone as quiet as death. It spoke his name. _Starscream. _So pleading . . . _Starscream._

When his maddened, ruby optics found Optimus', the shock was mirrored in both of them. Starscream saw the shock and fear in Optimus as clearly as he saw the haunted expression in his own face.

_Was the sadness I always saw in your optics only a reflection of myself?_

The battle had come to a full stop, he realized. Everybody had come to watch. None interfered; they just stood there. His vision became too blurred to tell Autobot from 'Con. All he could see all of a sudden were countless, metal frames, some bleeding energon, others not. Some tall, some short. Aerial and ground-bound, all colours of the spectrum stared in his, Megatron, and Optimus' direction. Starscream recalled, in that precise moment, thinking that none of them were different from the rest. Not at all.

All insignias looked the same when tired from battle.

Their importance and meaning was lost on him.

_Starscream, _the voice of his beloved called again, stressing the importance of the Prime's need for 'eye'-contact, and he quickly snapped his head down to regard the kneeling mech as he reached his large hand out, _Starscream, let go! Let go or you'll fall with him!_

Megatron was shaking weakly in his hold, his plating cooling. The edge was right behind them now, ready to swallow both if chance given.

_Stay with me, Star, _Optimus gasped at him, sad optics locking with his mad-red ones, _I love you, my beautiful Star. Stay here with me. Please._

Love.

Safety.

Trust.

Friendship.

Passion.

An anchor in a chaotic, and constantly changing world of spiralling colours and emotions, of good and cruel experiences.

_Starscream!_

In the last second he withdrew his claws from the brutal noble, dropped the dead-weight just as he threw himself forward, grasping onto the out-reaching hand, let himself be held as the entire world stopped. Even the air seemed to quiet and listen as the foaming waters aggressively consumed the body of the 'Con Leader long below them.

Starscream clutched his love's body closer as he imagined the river carrying all the evil away. Leaving no trace behind. Almost as if it was never really there.

_It's over, love. It's over. And you saved me, _a rain of kisses caressed his face, Optimus engine rumbling, alive and calming, against his chassis. _Thank you. Thank you for saving me. For saving all of us._

Starscream remembered with a clarity only seen in a sane mech how he'd pressed his forehead to Prime's, optics off-lining, closing out all the watching 'Cons and Autobots watching, listening, knowing . . .

He remembered whispering: _No. It was the other way around, you've saved me . . . I guess that makes us even. _

OoOoO

Sparkbonded.

Starscream smiled secretly into the crook of Optimus' neck, sighing through his vents as he felt the semi's arm tighten around his waist. The walls were orange. He snickered, but chastened and reminded himself that while the colour might be orange at least the surface was spotless, clean. But, oh, so horribly _orange!_

"Can't recharge?", his mate rumbled sleepily, unmoving.

"It's not my fault that you're so easily sated, you old fool," he grinned softly, fingers pinching the Prime's fin playfully, yet sweetly, "Us younger 'bots need more than two rows a night, didn't you know?"

"Hm, you're insatiable," Optimus huffed gently, turning onto his side, facing Starscream without on-lining his optics, " . . . Your spark is pulsing rather fast."

Starscream's fingertips explored his lover's grill gently, for once not trying to arouse him. His lover's hand was warm and solid, a promise of infinity against his spark-chamber. His face lost its mischievous edge, his bottom-lip quivering, the tremble almost going unnoticed by Optimus. But never quite.

Starscream was, as always, bewildered as to _why _he suddenly felt like crying.

"Star," Optimus murmured, sensing the tumult in his lover through their spark-bond. "What's the matter? What happened to upset you so?"

"I just can't believe everything I had to try, to see, to go through . . . Just to find you. Just to be here," he whispered, feeling through their bond, searching for the reassurance he'd always find and receive when his mind took him on a time-travel . . . back to Vos, Iacon, Praxus, the _Nemesis_, Earth . . . and finally Optimus. And sanity.

"I'm just so happy I found you," Optimus spoke both through vocals and through a heartfelt surge of utter devotion and trust, love and desire directly to Starscream's spark.

Starscream nearly sobbed in gratitude, but settled with pressing his lips to Prime's.

Sleep was the sweetest in the one you love's arms. But he still wanted to delay it if it meant he could be awake with him a little longer.

". . . Would it calm you if I read you a story?", the semi asked, a finger trailing the Seeker's cheek adoringly.

Starscream nodded into Optimus' cheek, off-lining his optics. A hypnotizing lullaby began playing, the music being the sounds of the _Ark_'shumming from beyond the walls, the on-lining of a data-pad in Optimus' hand, and the deep, strong beat of his spark-mate's spark, true and alive, just beneath his own.

" . . . 'The balance of the Universe is a matter of balance between infinite logic and madness'. . ."

::

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_Fin_

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**Hello again. You made it all the way through? I'm impressed! But, well, here we are; at the end of 'Walls'. I think it's only fair of me to clarify a few things that may or may not have confused my readers, so please have these explanations and in addition: my own interpretation of Starscream:**

**The title 'Walls' was something I decided near the end of the writing process. I actually already had a different title in mind before writing, but as I started the process of continuously re-reading in order to correct typos and fix errors, etc., I noticed how I repeatedly used the word 'Walls'. **

**Walls, ceilings, & even surfaces were elements that kept reoccurring, starting from the early sparkling-status, to the very end in Optimus' and Screamer's shared quarters. I realized then how my subconscious works in my writing, how it tells me what I already knew and believed about my favourite Decepticon Jet: his personality is very dominated by his constantly looming insanity, insanity caused by a lifetime's worth of pain, accusations, robbery of free will, and of course: lies. Thus his mental barriers are kept as high as possible, and every time he's confronted by something that's shaking him to his very core (war, loss of innocence, death, & other things that terrifies him) he'll make himself fixate on the walls or any possible surface nearby to mentally retract himself, to stay safe. **

**When Prime found that little, sacred oasis between the Canyon Walls (See? Freakin' **_**walls**_** again! *****Grumble*****) – Prime also secretly discovered and entered something far more intimate within Starscream; something Starscream had never been brave enough to show another living creature consciously. Luckily Optimus and Starscream were meant for each other, so their unification may heal them both, fill them with comfort and love. I'm so happy for both of them. And remember: even if you only let **_**one**_** get close to you, it still beats never letting anyone in at all. **

**Anyway, that's my interpretation, guys – good ole Freud and me are outta here! But please feel free to write me your own experiences with this fic or the characters in general :) I'd love to hear them! **

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a word or two before you leave, and I hope to see you again in another story! Take Care**


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